Comprachicos
by Pixel Petal
Summary: Orphaned, flesh scarred beyond repair, made to work in a sideshow for the sole purpose of being gawked at and ridiculed; all done by the very man that once promised him a safe, cushy life. Vanitas, the Masked Deformity, wanted more than simple freedom. He wanted to make them suffer, every last one of them. {AU}{Dark Themes}{Various pairings}{Many Character Deaths}
1. Prologue

_I do not own any of the characters of Kingdom Hearts. All rights go to Square Enix. I am merely a humble fanfiction writer._

* * *

It began with a sideshow.

The sky was dark, darker than most moist March nights should be. The moon was nowhere to be seen in the night sky, the only light being that of lanterns that had yet to put out inside open window sills. Crickets chirped in the nearby woods that clung to the town's outskirts. Not a soul was in sight, except for a young couple.

The pair, too poor to even afford the clothes on their backs, shuffled along a dirt road that led out into the forest. A cloth-wrapped bundle was held snugly in either pair of arms. The woman dared not glance down, for fear of the tears that already threatened to spill out of her red-brown eyes. Her husband gently adjusted the bundle in his arms to cradle it in the crook of his arm, reaching the other out to brush his wife's long black hair from her eyes. He drew her in and hold her close by the shoulder.

The gesture offered little comfort.

Ahead, the faint glow of a campfire could be seen breaking the piercing dark of the wooded trail. Their destination, their salvation, was just ahead. A pair of silhouettes began to casually approach them as they drew closer. Eyes like those of a wolf glowed with the back-lighting of the fire, staring at the couple expectantly. The man's grip tightened on his wife.

"I see you have come to a decision. Cloud. Tifa." The man's voice was worn with age, but it still managed to pierce the night like a lance. The young woman next to him remained silent. Tifa clutched the parcel to her bosom. Something felt off about the two before her. Yet, she couldn't help but feel that it was just her unwillingness to the situation twisting her thoughts.

Cloud swallowed thickly, holding the predatory eyes with a firm stare. "We have. Reluctantly." Blue eyes flicked down at the now squirming bundle in his arms. A smaller pair of those same eyes could be seen staring back up at him.

"As we discussed after the show, the boys will be taken the utmost care of. They will want for nothing, and you will receive your payment later tonight after my performers have settled in." A reassuring grin wrinkled the man's face further.

The woman stepped forward to Tifa, reaching out for the bundle in her arms. She instantly jerked backward, holding the child closer in a protective embrace. "Wait!" An annoyed sneer flashed across the blonde's face. "Let me at least say goodbye." Tifa's voice quivered, but she otherwise held firm. The man nodded, waving his hand as if to say _"Get on with it"_.

Pulling a piece of the cloth aside, Tifa looked down upon the tiny sleeping face that peeked out from the folds. A smile lit up her face, tears falling freely now. She leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on the child's forehead. "I love you, my little Vanitas. I always will." She whispered. Brushing the sparse, downy black hair into place with her palm she looked to the woman before her, and slowly held the child out to her.

The blonde retrieved the boy in a swift manner, carelessly gripping him in her inexperienced arms as she turned away to return whence she came. Tifa's eyes never left her back. A biting cold slowly crept up her warm arms._  
_

Cloud had done the same, having to pry his son's hand from his finger before passing him to the older man. The baby merely cooed curiously, giggling when the man glanced his way. "Doubtless, you are both exhausted from this difficult decision. Go home. Rest. Your payment will be in your window by morning, just as we agreed."

"Thank you for your generosity, Xehanort. We know our boys are in good hands with you." Cloud held firm to his shaking spouse. He feared that he, too, would begin to break down if they lingered much longer. Nodding for a second time, Xehanort turned away from the pair and followed the path the woman had taken. Tifa and Cloud watched on until Xehanort disappeared behind the caravans. It was then that they began their long trek back, the shattered remains of once glowing parents.

The crickets stopped their night songs.

Xehanort bounced the brunette in his arms. Another wave of giggles broke out from the tiny bundle. He grinned, beckoning a fit, blue-haired man over with his finger. Without a single glance toward the man, he spoke. "Follow the couple to their home. When they fall asleep, kill them. Leave no trace behind." The man bowed at the waist, murmuring under his breath. "Yes, Master Xehanort."


	2. Chapter 1

Xehanort stared at the dying embers, his fingers interlocked under his nose, and his brows drawn tightly together in thought. Even sat on the log across from him, tapping his foot much like an anxious horse would do before a show. "It's almost morning, Xehanort. What if he was caught? Shouldn't we be preparing in the off chance we might need to flee?" Wolfish eyes sliced through the air and pierced through him. A thick lump of regret developed in his throat.

"Perhaps your time would be better spent elsewhere, polishing your pickled punks." The eerily calm comment effectively shut the blonde man up. The sound of heavy panting drew their attention to the dark edges of the camp. Even tensed and nearly tumbled backwards in fright when a face appeared from around the side of the nearby caravan. The glow of the fire's corpse only intensified the pained expression, blood dribbling freely from two overlapping gashes on the blunette's forehead. Even blanched. "What in Sam Hill happened to you?" Saïx paused to lean against the vehicle's side, chest heaving under the tattered remains of his clothes. Even was quick to begin fussing over the wounds. However, Xehanort silently scrutinized the blue-haired male with cold indifference.

"My apologies for the wait, Master Xehanort. The couple were more than they appeared."

"It's safe for me to presume that you eliminated them."

Saïx snarled breathlessly. "Of course. After strangling the life from his bitch, I gutted the bastard with his own sword." A pleased smirk crawled onto Xehanort's face, breaking his stony visage.

"Excellent. Even will see that your wounds are attended to." A gurgled yelp came from said male. Giving them a look of finality, he retired to his van.

* * *

The familiar noise of hooves mingling with roaring engines was first to greet Xehanort when he awoke. His body cried out in protest as he slowly rose up from his cot. _Time is catching up with me._ Ignoring the dull ache, he pushed his legs from under the sheets and leaned forward to rest on his knees. A hand raised to rub his bald head. _Just another morning of moving the show from one location to another._

Underneath the usual ruckus, he could hear the faint wails of a baby. _Ah, yes. _A tired grin broke through the morning grogginess. It had been a week now since the two had been passed on to him, and yet he still managed to forget about them.

Vertebrae popping as he stood, Xehanort padded casually around the side of his bed. His attention focused solely on a basket that sat at the foot of the headboard. Within the linen-lined wicker, a pink cherubic face peeked up at him. Thin strands of brown hair stuck up from under the fabric.

Although Xehanort was what many considered as a man of patience, the undertaking of raising a child would not have normally interested him. He could have easily pawned both children off on Even, but there was just something about the brunette babe that immediately sparked his interest. Maybe it was the child's gentle demeanor, or possibly the purity that exuded from those oceanic eyes, reminding him of his own long lost youth. Whatever the case, this child would prove useful to him later in one way or another. The crying from the other caravan grew louder for a moment. Xehanort sneered. The other boy had yet to stop crying since the night of his parents' departure, and it was more than wearing on his nerves at this point.

"Even must be at wit's end by now." He hissed under his breath. Sparing one last glance at the sleeping child, he stepped away to retrieve his morning meal from a desk at the other end of the enclosed space. Taking a seat in the cushioned stool -and nearly tumbling off of it when the caravan hit a rough spot in the road- he set about counting the total earnings from the last show as he chewed at a biscuit, but his mind wandered elsewhere.

Where would the other child's -Vanitas, was it?- niche be in their little band of castaways? Perhaps he would grow up to become the fire eater he had wanted for so long. _Surely Even has pondered this question during his many sleepless nights._ Xehanort's acidic eyes glanced up at the paper shoved against wall at the far corner of his desk. The grim face of the officer stared back at him, barring him and the crowd before him from the horrific scene inside the house.

Whatever lay in store for the twins, it would be a long time before they were old enough to be tutored, allowing him plenty of time to decide the raven-headed child's fate.


End file.
